Persistence
by Jessica0590
Summary: Just a snippet of Edward and Bella's on going arguments regarding Bella's needs as a human and Edward's need to constantly obsess over her well-being. Pre Breaking Dawn, and depending on the reviews, I'm thinking about filling in the blanks/continuing.


He pressed his lips to mine again, but it was different this time, more urgent. There was something in the way that he was holding the back of my neck, his fingers tangled in my aerosol-matted hair. It felt as though he was scared I was going to remove myself from him somehow, as though I had the will power to ever separate myself from his frigid embrace. It was so offsetting to feel any sort of uncertainty on Edward's behalf, and I wanted to reassure him. It amazed me that after everything that had happened, it was _this_ that frightened him. This, which I had been praying and all but begging for since I had first laid eyes on the stunningly gorgeous stranger in my biology class. I had been so naïve then, so completely clueless as to the true danger I had been in that day. The same danger that I knew I was in now, as I felt my hands slide over the front of his distressed leather jacket, fumbling to pull down the ancient zipper.

He removed his hands from my neck to assist me, peeling himself from the jacket effortlessly, and I sighed against his lips as I heard it hit the floor somewhere behind me. I knew little about the male libido; aside from the few relationships I'd had back in Arizona (which certainly didn't add up to anything substantial) these types of situations were pretty foreign to me. They were becoming pleasantly familiar during my time with Edward, but I knew that the further we went in the next few minutes, the less either one of us knew- and the more danger _I _was in.

I felt his breath grazing the surface of my neck cautiously, his cool lips tracking their way across my collarbone. I knew he was testing the waters, gauging both my reaction and his own as he slowly lessoned the reigns on his desires. I wanted to reassure him, to ease his worries of hurting me, but I knew that I couldn't. I could only encourage his tentative actions, mashing my feverish lips against the smooth marble surface of his own. I relished the chill that ran down the back of my neck to the very tips of my toes, a sensation that I now only associated with kissing Edward Cullen, for there was nothing I'd ever experienced that even remotely compared to it.

As the minutes quickly passed, I could literally feel the atmosphere of the room change, the shift was incredibly palatable. His cool fingertips gripped the sides of my face a little tighter, his breath quickening into an unnaturally uneven rhythm. I could tell he was letting go, however reluctantly, of his stubborn reserve. My body responded accordingly, as it usually did, but this time was different. There was no hesitant stare, no gentle yet firm grip on my wrists, no apologetic murmur. Edward Cullen was no longer denying my persistent desires, and for a moment I was completely flustered, my mind nearly frozen in a stunned euphoria. A second passed where I almost wasn't sure what to do with myself. Almost.

My fingers ran along the pearlescent skin of his chest, tracing the divots and curves of his perfection. I found myself marveling, as I usually did in Edward's presence, at the unadulterated flawlessness of his creation. The feelings of inadequacy were still there, under the surface of my fevered actions, I was still unsure of myself on this frontier. I knew that in reality, there was no reasoning for my self-consciousness. If Edward had proven anything to me, it was his devotion and disillusion to my feelings of insufficiency. To Edward I _was _an equal, completely worthy of his focus and energy. At times it even seemed as though he viewed me as a superior, as though my fragile human body somehow made me desirable or unattainable. As though I could ever amount to anything remotely advanced to Edward Cullen.

Lost in thought, I felt my eyes flutter open in surprise as his fingers swiftly began unbuttoning the front of my flannel pajama top, while one hand remained on my face, gently cradling my cheek. Surprised as I was, I didn't allow my lips to falter, afraid that any wrong movement or thought would interrupt him. I wasn't sure when his hesitation and doubt had faded, but there was absolutely no way that I would be the one to call him out on it. Pausing momentarily, he helped free my arms from the sleeves, tugging the garment absentmindedly from around my torso. Bringing his lips to mine again, I felt my body erupt into chills -a result from the a combination of the cool night air drifting through the open window, and the magnificent feeling of his smooth fingers lacing themselves around my bare waist, and resting on the small of my back.

This was actually happening.

A slow smile came to my lips, and I tried to keep it from becoming too noticeable, fearing that it would cause him to pause, but I had never been able to hide anything from Edward. Just as expected, he seemed to know my thoughts before I did, and I heard, rather than felt, his melodious laugh against my lips. He pulled away from me slightly, and it was almost a physical pain to feel his icy skin leave mine.

"Your heart is pounding," he whispered, the smile on his face faltering slightly, as though the fact concerned him. I took a second to focus in on my own body, and wasn't surprised to find that he was right. My reaction to Edward wasn't anything new; he had always had this effect on me. I had become so accustomed to it that I didn't even notice it anymore; it was simply a natural occurrence.

"I can't imagine why," my voice felt raspy, and my breath sounded as though I'd just run a marathon. It was almost embarrassing to listen to his even-toned voice, so soft and perfect, as though we were doing nothing but discussing the weather. I learned a long time ago to look for other signs of exhilaration from Edward, since his body didn't convey the human attributes. Like his eyes. I saw it now, that soft glimmer of emotion, a fire that told me his actions were just as fueled as mine.

I had only just begun studying the intricacies of his features, when I noticed his silence. It was rare for him not to have something to say to me. He always seemed to be curious about the complete nonsense that ran through my head on a day-to-day basis. Coming out of my thoughts, I focused more intently on his composure, trying to interpret his actions –which always seemed to be much more difficult on my part then his own. If I hadn't known it to be impossible, I would have said that he looked almost uncomfortable. His movements, which had been so forward and confident before, were suddenly tentative, as though he were again gauging something –though I couldn't be sure what else there was to measure…

"Bella…" My name slid from his lips as velvety as they always did, though I heard the weight that it seemed to carry with it. I didn't answer him; instead I pulled his hand from my tussled quilt and held it between both of my own. The visual was almost laughable, his sculpted fingers interlocked with my small and feeble ones. The radiance that resulted however, had always over shadowed any feelings of misplacement. The combination was perfect.

"Please don't start with this again," I begged, bringing my lips to the tips of his fingers, kissing them each in turn. I knew the conversation that he wanted to have, and I also knew exactly how it would go. It was a common topic between the two of us these days, and it seemed that neither of us planned on budging on the matter. A sigh escaped his lips, and he brought his empty hand to the side if my cheek.

"I have to, Bella," he whispered, his copper eyes meeting my own, their tortured expression made my heart ache. I hated seeing him in any sort of anguish, especially when I knew I was the source. My only desire was to make him happy, and seeing the pain etched in the perfect lines of his face was enough to stop my entire world. I knew where his concerns were centered, and I knew that they were completely valid, perhaps even beyond my comprehension. It may have been totally childish of me, but I had no desire to understand anything else. My heart was sure of Edward Cullen, and there was simply no arguing our fate. Even if he insisted on it. "because sometimes I still don't believe you truly understand,"

And here we were again.

"There's nothing left to understand, Edward!" I said, my voice more aggressive than I had intended. I sometimes had trouble controlling my emotions around him, which made our conversations rather unpredictable. I took a deep breath before continuing, it wasn't my intention to ruin either one of our moods, but his words were so frustrating I was having trouble keeping my aggravation quiet. I hated that he had this sort of control over me; it was utterly maddening to have your emotions sitting so unstable on the tip of someone else's finger. One moment I was completely immersed in passion and desire, and the next my heart ached for him and I felt on the verge of tears. He always said that he wished he could listen to my thoughts the way he could with everyone else, and I'd never agreed with him more than I did now. If he could feel the confidence I had in the choices that I had made, there wouldn't be any more need for conversation. If he could see for one second, the complete and utter devotion I had formed within our time together I had no doubt that we would have passed this hurtle a long time ago.

I took a breath, ready to argue my point further, the way I usually did when the conversation took this turn, but the look on his face caused the breath to hitch in my throat. It was like looking at the most tragic Grecian statue, his marble features fixed shamelessly on his face. The honesty of his emotion tugged once again at my heart, its familiar warmth was just as overwhelming as always, but somehow made it easier to focus on my point. I felt as though he just didn't understand exactly where I was coming from. Regardless of how he felt for me, he had never been able to fully understand my complete and utter devotion to everything I had ever said or felt for him. He didn't understand that nothing in the world mattered more than him and his existence. I'd sat back and listened to his maraudering thoughts of what he assumed my sacrifices in this relationship were, and how guilty he felt for taking what he considered to be milestones away from me with one decision.

But that was exactly what it was, a decision. _My_ decision.

I was done letting Edward control the specifics of my choice, it was obvious that he was going to place my apparent safety above everything else, regardless of anyone else's opinion, including mine. We'd discussed it before, the fact that it would not have to be him that turned me. Any member of the Cullen family would be perfectly able and willing to move things along for me. Everything had been discussed as far as my desires went, and there was nothing stopping me from approaching Carlisle right that moment with my request.

Nothing except the hesitance of my soul mate.

"Why do you continuously fight this?" I asked him, the anguish a little too obvious in my voice. It was difficult to sound anything but mesmerized when staring at Edward.

"I'm worried," he murmured, his voice so soft I had to lean in to hear him properly. I knew this; we'd been over it a hundred times. There was nothing left to say that would calm his irrational fears, because I knew that for anyone else, they were completely rational. He made things so difficult to argue against, his reasoning and wishes for my future were relevant and should have been just as concerning to me, if not more. But they weren't.

I had fears of course. I was in no hurry to leave poor Charlie to his own defenses yet again, knowing the impact that my short visit had visibly had on his situation. And Renee, who knew next to nothing about my relationship with Edward and would no doubt be devastated at the news of our engagement. Surely they would be all right? Renee was busy and happy in Jacksonville, her attention fully occupied by Phil and her new life, and Charlie could take care of himself, just like before. I didn't give my parents enough credit; no one here _needed_ me to survive. _My_ survival on the other hand, was completely dependant on someone else's presence.

"I wish you wouldn't be," I whispered, reaching up to trace his jaw line with trembling fingertips. I met his gaze easily, his eyes were warm, but there was obvious concern hidden beneath the fire. "I'm not." I reminded him confidently. It wasn't entirely true, but I didn't think that now was the best time to mention that.

"I know that, which only makes me more concerned," he admitted, reaching up to lace his fingers through mine. I could feel the mood gradually slipping from the wonderful urgency of before to something more subdued, and my stomach dropped in disappointment yet again. For as much as I understood his hesitance, I wasn't sure how much more of this reluctant rejection I could take.

"But _why_?" I pleaded, searching his face for the explanation that he wasn't giving. My voice had taken on the tone of a whining child, of someone who knew that what they wanted may not be the admirable option, but was insisting on it regardless. I was finished with appeasing Edward's quiet demands, and I refused to let my need to please him continually get in the way of what I clearly needed to happen in order for me to be at peace with my future. It was beyond my desperate physical need for him now. I would not leave my human life without experiencing the most basic and human act of devotion.

I was going to have sex with my fiancé.


End file.
